Go! Tell! Witness! Believe!

¹⁵When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.” ¹⁶And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger. ¹⁷And when they saw it, they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child.
Luke 2:15-17 (ESV)

Go! Tell It on the Mountain! The ancient prophets foretold it. The Angels brought the news to the shepherds, who told it to their neighbors: Jesus, the Christ, is born! He is here among us! God in the flesh! What amazing and glorious news! This same Jesus told parables, shared prophecies, and spoke the Truth– and taught His disciples to do the same! Through the centuries, witnesses have spoken words of hope, healing, and salvation to the next generation, taking the Word as they spread throughout the world.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.

John 1:1; 14

“Good Christian, fear, for sinners here the silent Word is pleading..”
What Child is This?

Jesus, who spoke the universe into existence, came into His own creation in silence as a newborn baby. The angels announced His coming; the shepherds spoke of Him; the Wise Men came to honor Him. But His arrival was just the beginning. In His ministry, He would speak words that echo through the centuries– words of hope; words of warning; words of life and salvation. And He challenges us to speak as well– to share the Gospel; to be His witnesses to the uttermost parts of the earth (see Acts 1:8).

Our words matter. Our words have power– power to build up, and power to destroy. We have opportunities each day to speak Truth, Hope, Joy, Peace, Compassion, Love…or to stay silent. And we must be careful to speak the truth– even when it is inconvenient, unpopular, or risky. We must not compromise by speaking pleasant platitudes or ignoring danger. Truth is not always pleasant–Jesus’s words were not always welcomed; not always comforting. But they brought healing where it was most needed, and hope where there was darkness.

And more than words must go out into the world– Jesus didn’t sit in a comfortable corner of a bistro waiting for the hurting and hopeless to come to Him and hear His words. He climbed mountains and crossed lakes; He traveled from town to town; He shared meals and participated in the Synagogue services; He touched lepers and spoke to outcasts. Today, we have amazing opportunities to spread the Good News–technology and media; the ability to meet others in person (COVID permitting!) or via Zoom or Skype or even cell phone; and, in many places, the freedom to speak without fear.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.
John 3:16 (NIV)

The Word came down at Christmas. Let’s make sure the Word goes out this Christmas– the Savior has arrived! He is Christ, the Lord! Joy! Peace! Hope! Celebration! Go! Tell it on the mountaintops and in the valleys and across the seas!

December 22, 2021 0

Freedom and Blueberries

My husband and I went blueberry picking earlier this week. The local blueberries are at the peak of their freshness and flavor. Our friends have a farm, complete with a blueberry patch, where you can buy farm fresh blueberries by the box, or you can pick your own and pay by the pound. We went early in the morning, while the dew was still on the berries. The day promised to be hot and muggy, but not until we had finished our labors among the bushes. We saw butterflies and heard the happy chirping of birds nearby; otherwise, it was quiet and we focused on gently rolling dark, sweet berries into our hands and dropping them into our buckets. We picked a little over 12 pounds of berries (enough for several pies!) in a little over an hour–a good harvest at a leisurely pace.

I love visiting the blueberry patch. It brings back wonderful memories of visits with my mom and grandma, my sister, my husband, and even my oldest nephews. I love the feel of the berries as I gently pull them off the bush and as they roll into the bucket. I love the feel of the bucket pulling as it fills with fruit. I love measuring out the berries for pies or cobbler or just making sure we have several quarts frozen for later use.

Photo by Adrienne Andersen on Pexels.com

I’ve been picking blueberries for years. I’ve picked from several different farms in several different locations all around the area. Some years, the berries are huge. Other years, they are small and tend toward sour (still good for pies and baked goods, but not as tasty to eat by the handfull!) In all those years, I took for granted the wonderful freedom of being able to enjoy this activity. This year was different.

Photo by Polina Tankilevitch on Pexels.com

There were two reasons for the difference. First, this was the year after COVID kept many people from enjoying “normal” activities– even outdoors–throughout most of the world. Even the ability to pick berries was limited by social distancing mandates and fears of catching COVID from other pickers or from touching the same bucket or being in the same weighing area as someone else. This year, I knew what it was NOT to be able to do something I considered to routine.

Secondly, we’ve been talking about freedom lately at church– the freedom we enjoy as citizens of America, but more importantly, the Freedom we enjoy as citizens of God’s Kingdom. As citizens of this country, our friends have the freedom to own their farm and grow whatever crops they choose. They also have the freedom and the opportunity to sell their produce as they see fit– commercially to stores or privately at a farm stand, or as U-Pick. They have the freedom to set their own prices and hours. And we have the freedom to choose from many such farms to purchase delicious, fresh fruit–and even to select the fruit ourselves! I had always accepted this as a “given.” But many people have never had this incredible opportunity, and I am so thankful for the many years I have enjoyed it!

That’s an amazing thing– and I have spent a lifetime taking it for granted. But even more amazing is the Freedom I have through Christ. I am free to choose my attitude and behavior each day. I am empowered by the Holy Spirit to make the kind of choices I would not make in my own selfish mindset. I am free to live without the painful load of guilt and regret over the past– not because it didn’t happen or doesn’t have consequences, but because it no longer defines who I am or who I can be. Just like picking the plump, juicy blueberries from the bush, I can harvest the Fruit of the Spirit; I can have a life filled with Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self-control! (Galatians 5:22-23) Just like being able to store up delicious fruit for the coming months, I can do what is required to please God– to act justly, love mercy, and to walk humbly with (my) God (Micah 6:8 paraphrased). Just like choosing which farm I will visit, I can seek out opportunities to reach out to people near and far with the incredible Gospel of Christ– in word AND in action.

Who knew blueberries could be so powerful and so liberating! Thank you, Father, for blueberries. And thank you for the blessing of Freedom through Jesus Christ!

July 28, 2021 0

I Can Do All Things..

I know many Christians who cite Philippians 4:13 as their favorite verse: “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” And while this is a powerful verse, and holds great promise, I think it has been misused and taken out of context too often in recent years.

The Apostle Paul wrote this– from a prison cell as he awaited trial and a likely sentence of death! And this thought is a summary statement. It follows a list of circumstances in which Paul had experienced needs, and questions, and setbacks, and lack of provision.

In this season of “sheltering in place,” I have a new appreciation for Paul’s letter. I am not in jail, but there are many restrictions (temporary, but seemingly endless) on where I can go and what activities I can pursue in light of the COVID-19 pandemic. I cannot “do all things” in any normal sense. My family could not gather for Mother’s Day this year. We cannot have friends over for a meal, or take our grandchildren to the movies, or meet together for a traditional church service on Sundays. I cannot open my little shop to customers. I can’t go and get a haircut or hang out at the bakery or coffee shop.

And there are others who are struggling, not just with restrictions, but with increased expectations. They cannot “do all things” to help a dying patient, or stop the spread of infection in their nursing home or hospital ward. They cannot answer frenzied questions about timelines and protocols. They cannot work effectively from home and still be available to their children as both parent and surrogate teacher. Or, they cannot meet the needs of their students without face-to-face interaction.

But Paul is not talking about the mere completion of a worldly task, or achieving a personal goal. Paul isn’t suggesting that he (or anyone else) can do anything and everything he might want to do or that others might wish him to do. He has just finished talking about times of lack, of wants and needs and facing uncertainties. Paul did not (even with Christ’s help) skip lightly around Asia Minor, making friends and influencing people.

So what DID he do? What did he mean by “all things?”

Paul speaks often throughout his letter of “running a race.” Paul learned that in all circumstances, with whatever resources, whatever restrictions, and whatever obstacles, he could “run” his race. Under persecution or in times of great success; in times of plenty, or in times of hunger; in prison or on the road (or seas); in Jewish synagogues or Greek amphitheaters; alone or in crowds– Paul could worship God. He could proclaim the Gospel. He could spread the love and grace of Christ Jesus. If he couldn’t travel, he could still speak. If he couldn’t speak, he could write. If he couldn’t write, he could pray. He could do “all things” that were necessary to accomplish his one goal– to run the race; to finish strong; to live a life of purpose and worship.

May we do the same today, through Christ, who gives us strength. I may not be able to gather with friends, but I have the blessing of being able to call, or e-mail, or IM, or send encouragement. I can still write this blog. I can still pray– in fact I have more time to do so! I can do “all things” that will fulfill my purpose and bring honor to God. And so can you. What a privilege–no matter where we are or what our circumstances!

Photo by Porapak Apichodilok on Pexels.com

May 13, 2020 0

I Love to Tell the Story

I’ve mentioned this before, but many of my childhood memories of church revolve around old hymns, sung with more gusto than musicality– joyful noises, just not always faithful to the notes. But they were faithful to the Word, and the Worship of Christ. I will always be grateful for that heritage.

In the more informal services on Sunday nights or Wednesday nights before we settled in for prayer, the worship leader would often ask for members of the congregation to call out the number of any random hymn. We would (attempt) to sing it, often a capella, just the first verse, or maybe the first and last. It gave people a chance to sing an old favorite, or a hymn we hadn’t sung in awhile. Sometimes, a brave soul would find a “new” hymn– one no one (or almost no one) had ever heard. Occasionally, the evening church hour would revolve solely around this worship model– a hymn-sing service. It’s a dying practice, and one that deserves to be preserved. My church has done it a few times over the past years, a local chapel does it once a month, and Bible Study Fellowship in our area begins with hymn-sing every week. It’s a great way to learn old hymns, long-forgotten choruses, and treasured truths of doctrine set to music.

But I digress. As a child, I liked this spontaneous activity, except for one thing. I knew that if Mr. Teeter opened the hymnal and started to clear his throat, that he would suggest the same hymn he always picked. It never seemed to vary– ever. Mr. Teeter was one of the older men of the church. He was in his seventies, short, with wisps of white hair, wise and twinkling eyes, and a big, red nose like a strawberry, which he often blew–loudly–into his pristine white handkerchief. He always came to church in a suit, complete with a hat, which had its own special spot on the hat rack in the entryway. I could not imagine him any other way. And every time he had the opportunity, he would choose to have us all sing, “I Love to Tell the Story.”

I wasn’t much impressed with the song. It seemed old-fashioned. It was simple. It had no soaring musical passages– sometimes, it even sounded whiny to my young ears. I dreaded the thought that we would sing it (yet) again. I would try to get my hand up and choose another hymn, any other hymn, before Mr. Teeter could clear his throat. I did not understand why he never seemed to want to sing other hymns– I knew he liked “Standing on the Promises,” “Blessed Assurance,” even “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms!” But, while he could be stalled for one or two other numbers, he would eventually call out the dreaded number, and we would sing at least one verse. It’s not that I hated the song, and I certainly had respect for Mr. Teeter, but I just couldn’t figure out why THIS song? Why EVERY time?

Just a couple of years before his death, Mr. Teeter gave his salvation story in front of the church. Many of us had never known about his wild early years; his drinking or his rebellion against his family and the church. Many of us assumed he had always lived a quiet, rather pious life. He radiated the peace and wisdom of a man who walked daily with his God. And then, he told of his fascination with this old hymn. He liked the very simplicity of it–his life wasn’t based on some grand theological argument, or a complicated list of heroic actions he had achieved to win his salvation. His life–his born-again, wonderful, eternal life– was because someone had told him an old, old story, he had believed it, and that had made all the difference. That simple old story has been the same since the beginning– God made the world, mankind sinned and fell short of God’s glory, God sent His Son to pay the price of that fall, and Jesus’ death and resurrection allows anyone who believes to be adopted as a son or daughter of God. And though Mr. Teeter knew the old story inside and out, and lived it, he never tired of it. He was “hungering and thirsting” to hear it again!

Whenever I hear this song now (or suggest it), I think of Mr. Teeter singing with saints and angels, his quiet voice full of emotion, his eyes filling with tears of gratitude and worship, as he gets his request–“and when, in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song, ’twill be the old, old story that I have loved so long. I love to tell the story; ’twill be my theme in glory to tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love!”

November 27, 2019 0

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play;
In music sweet the tones repeat,
“There’s peace on earth, good will to men.”
I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along th’ unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And in despair I bowed my head:
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong, and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor does He sleep,
For Christ is here; His Spirit near
Brings peace on earth, good will to men.”
*When men repent and turn from sin
The Prince of Peace then enters in,
And grace imparts within their hearts
His peace on earth, good will to men.
O souls amid earth’s busy strife,
The Word of God is light and life;
Oh, hear His voice, make Him your choice,
Hail peace on earth, good will to men.
Then happy, singing on your way,
Your world will change from night to day;
Your heart will feel the message real,
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
Words by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, with alterations and *additional text by Harlan D. Sorrell.

Some Christmas Carols are the joyous outpouring of Christmas cheer, filled with the laughter of wonder of the season. Others are forged in pain and doubt that has been turned to the light of hope and renewal. Such is the story behind this hymn. http://suvcw.org/mollus/art005.ht

The famous American poet, H. W. Longfellow had lost his wife in a tragic fire just three years before he nearly lost his son in the horrors of the Civil War. When his son was severely wounded in battle, Longfellow went to the military hospital, and, when he could, he transported his son home, knowing the journey would be painful and the outcome might not be a happy one. (His son lived, but never recovered fully– see the article above.)
As he sat with his wounded son over the Christmas season, he could hear the bustle and chatter, and the bells ringing from the church steeples, announcing the good news of Christmas. As his pain and bitterness churned, he wrote about it, and about how his heart was turned from bitterness to hope. (See the original poem here: https://www.hymnsandcarolsofchristmas.com/Poetry/christmas_bells.htm

Christmas is a time of warmth and good cheer for many–the ringing of bells, the singing of merry tunes, the tinsel and glitter of decorations–but for others, it is a time of deep soul-searching. “My life is a mess. I have suffered greatly. There is no Peace On Earth!” Yet, the hope and promise of Christmas rings out greater than the darkness and the blast of gunfire, the angry outcries and the weeping of those in grief.

How can this be?

Christmas reminds us that our circumstances, though very real and very painful, are confined to this time and space. They are temporary– not in the sense that we will forget our pain or loss– but that we can still experience hope and joy and healing in their midst. “The Wrong shall fail”–there will still be evil in the world, injustice, hunger, abuse, sickness–wrong will still exist, but it does not have the power to define us, to enslave us and take away our ability to do good. “The Right, prevail”–God’s promise of Messiah (among several hundred other prophetic promises!) has been fulfilled. God is Faithful. God’s word endures. God’s Justice Will Be Done, and there will be “Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men.”

Christmas also reminds us that it is just in those very small things– the tolling of bells, being able to hug your child, to share memories of loved ones who are no longer here, being grateful for small gifts, giving a word of encouragement–that hope and joy are spread like ripples of water and echoes of sound. Christ’s birth was humble, but it was heralded with the hosts of angels from the highest heavens.

My prayer today is that we would listen for the true message of Christmas, and that we would echo and repeat the message– even if it seems that we are being drowned out by sirens and protests, or silenced by those who are hurting and cannot hear the sweetness in the music of the season.

December 11, 2018 0

Go, Tell It on the Mountain

Go, Tell It On The Mountain

While shepherds kept their watching
O’er silent flocks by night,
Behold throughout the heavens
There shone a holy light

Go, tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go, tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born.

The shepherds feared and trembled
When lo above the earth
Rang out the angel chorus
That hailed our Savior’s birth;

Go, tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go, tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born.

Down in a lowly manger
The humble Christ was born;
And God sent out salvation
That blessed Christmas morn.

When I was a seeker
I sought both night and day
I sought the Lord to help me
And He showed me the way.

He made me a watchman
Upon the city wall
And If I am a Christian
I am the least of all.

Go, tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go, tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born.

During the Christmas season, we often focus on giving. And it’s certainly appropriate. But there is another aspect of Christmas that sometimes gets overlooked– Telling.

Christ came to earth humbly, but he didn’t come secretly. Angels announced his arrival to the shepherds; stars aligned and shone brightly as a signal to the wise men. Prophets had foretold his coming for centuries. John the Baptist even went ahead of Jesus, baptizing and preparing his hearers for the good news yet to come. The earliest followers of Christ were eager to tell of his words, his deeds, and his glorious resurrection. Many lost their lives doing so.

Photo by Julian Jagtenberg on Pexels.com

If the birth of Christ was reason to fill the night sky with songs and wonders, reason enough to send angels and stars, prophets and messengers; what about the news of his life, death, resurrection, and ascension? Why do we allow this amazing news to sit on a dusty shelf, unopened and unshared? Or treat it like a secret, good news for only the few, the righteous?

We have the greatest news in all of history– more important than any political scandal, more amazing than the latest technology, more joyous than any other announcement imaginable. Emmanuel– God WITH US–He came, he lived, worked, spoke, laughed, shared, loved, cried, ate, slept, and died, WITH US. And he died and rose so that we could continue to live WITH HIM!

God didn’t send all the signs and wonders– he didn’t come into the world to be a guilty secret. And though there is still a risk involved in proclaiming the gospel, it is no less good, and no less NEWS now than it was nearly 2000 years ago. Let’s TELL it! SHOW it! POST it! SING it out!– Everywhere!

Father, Thank you for this wonderful news. Thank you for the Greatest Gift–Yourself. Give us hearts filled with joy and courage, and lips eager to share your grace and love with those we meet. Help us to be faithful messengers of that grace and love; transparent and true in word and deed. May every mountain and valley, forest, meadow, desert and ocean ring with the hope and glory of your nativity, your ministry, and your death and resurrection.

December 7, 2018 1

A Brief Word About Shoes

I’m really sick of hearing about shoes in the news lately. But, surprisingly, I think it’s time for a brief word about shoes— from a Biblical perspective.

man reading a book — Photo by Tri Fatono on Pexels.com

The Bible has a lot more to say about shoes than most of us realize. Way back in Exodus, when God called Moses from the burning bush, He commanded Moses to take off his shoes. Later, in Deuteronomy, the Israelites are reminded that during their years of wandering, their shoes did not wear out– God took care of even the smallest and lowliest of details in providing for their needs in the wilderness.

fashion footwear grass outdoors — Photo by Tobi on Pexels.com

Boaz secured the right to marry Ruth through an old ritual involving an exchange of sandals. The prophets used shoes to indicate the coming exile, and the need for people to be prepared to leave their homeland.

apples colors fashion field — Photo by Valeria Boltneva on Pexels.com

In the New Testament, John the Baptist declares Jesus’ superiority by saying that he (John) is not worthy to latch Jesus’ shoes! And the Apostle Paul includes shoes (or sandals or boots) in his list of spiritual armor, asking us to wear on our feet the readiness of the gospel of peace (Ephesians 6:15). A Christian’s shoes are to be used to bring good news and peace– not anger, protests, and divisiveness.

Photo by Ingo Joseph on Pexels.com

Shoes are meant to serve a useful purpose. They protect our feet from surfaces that are hot, cold, wet, dusty, or rough. They provide traction, allowing us to start and stop moving on pavement, gravel, rocks, and flooring. Some shoes even provide arch support so we may stand and walk for hours with minimum damage to our bones and nerves. Shoes allow us to walk farther, run faster and with more confidence, and stand firm.

man person street shoes — Photo by Gratisography on Pexels.com

The most ridiculous thing about all the fighting over a shoe’s ad campaign is that it’s not about the SHOE–and no one is entirely clear on what it IS about– is it about race, police, injustice, patriotism, lack of patriotism, residual guilt over slavery, respect (or lack of respect) for military and/or rescue personnel, the NFL, Black Pride, White Privilege, income inequality, all of the above, something entirely different? Mostly, it seems to be about anger, hurt feelings, hatred, and generic outrage.

None of that seems like a shoe I want to wear.

action air balance beach — Photo by Rafael on Pexels.com

Lord, from my head to my toes, I want to bring peace, hope, and love to this world in YOUR NAME. Help me not to be blinded or distracted by all the world’s empty substitutes. Let me wear the shoes that make my feet ready to bring your gospel of peace and reconciliation to others. May I walk and run and climb and stand in Christ’s name and for His sake. Amen.

September 7, 2018 0

Why “Good” Friday Matters

Good Friday is a stumbling block for many people who would be Christians. Some get angered at the mere mention of “Good” Friday. They see nothing good in it, and no reason to celebrate. They mock Christian celebrations and practices throughout Holy Week. They ask, “What could be good about being arrested, beaten, tried in an unfair court, mocked, and condemned to death?” “What could be good about celebrating someone’s final meal, and following the gruesome details of his humiliating crucifixion?” “Why remember someone being tortured by his enemies and abandoned and even betrayed by his friends?” I know someone who uses the crucifixion of Jesus as “proof” that God is neither omnipotent, nor holy.

Yet the Bible chooses to focus time, detailed description, and several varying viewpoints to make this the pivotal event (along with the resurrection) of history. The Crucifixion does not come as a sudden and inexplicable episode in Jesus’ ministry. He predicts it; not just once, and not just in one account–he doesn’t hint vaguely at some “future trouble,” or potential danger–he gives a detailed description of what will happen to him:

Mark 10:33-34 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

³³saying, “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be ^[a]delivered to the chief priests and the scribes; and they will condemn Him to death and will ^[b]hand Him over to the Gentiles. ³⁴They will mock Him and spit on Him, and scourge Him and kill Him, and three days later He will rise again.”

Luke 24:6-7 New American Standard Bible (NASB)

⁶He is not here, but He has ^[a]risen. Remember how He spoke to you while He was still in Galilee, ⁷saying that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise again.”

Why do we need Good Friday? Why, my acquaintance posits, does a loving God make salvation contingent upon the death of himself in human form? Is it that God is incapable, or unwilling to offer “unconditional” grace? After all, does he not offer “unconditional” love? Why must salvation be achieved only by the unjust death of a perfect being? Why must reconciliation and new life be forged in suffering and death?

These are not unreasonable questions, but I think they miss the broader picture. Before the cross, before the scourging and the betrayal, let’s look at the life of Christ. Jesus, the second person of the Trinity, the author of creation, could have stepped out of Heaven at any moment, and arrived in all his glory, surrounded by angels, to walk in pomp and dignity through the world he created. He could have swept the entire Roman Empire off the face of the planet, healed every disease with a whisper, and lived in the Temple in Jerusalem as the Ruler he is. Instead, he came as a helpless child, born to a teenage mom and her fiance during a grueling tax season. He grew up in relative obscurity, never attended college, and is lost to history until he begins his second career as an itinerant rabbi at age 30. He never held political office, never owned a home of his own, never wrote a book, or produced a piece of art work, never led an army into battle, never married or had children, never became wealthy, never did anything to make himself famous by worldly standards. He was not crucified because he posed an actual threat to the Roman occupation of Jerusalem, but because he was accused of blasphemy by not denying claims that he was the promised Messiah of Israel. His only “claim to fame” was that he was a dynamic teacher and had performed miraculous healings. By almost every worldly standard, his life was a failure and a lesson in wasted potential.

His death is in keeping with his humble life. It strikes us as a failure– humiliating, unjust, anti-climactic. A life of servitude, poverty, being misunderstood, and making all the “wrong” friends and enemies. Why would God live such a ridiculous and unfulfilling life? Except he didn’t– it wasn’t a failure; his life and death stand as examples of how to live at peace, and how to change the world! Hundreds of people flocked to hear him teach; hundreds more to see him heal the sick and raise the dead. But he never charged a single coin, never demanded accolades or even thanks.

This is the paradox of the Gospels. God’s ways are not our ways. His humiliating death on the cross was necessary for the ultimate triumph of the resurrection, but it was more than that– it was a vindication of justice over injustice and service over selfishness. Good doesn’t always triumph over evil in a power play. God has the power to obliterate every one of his enemies, but more often than not, he causes them to fall by their own arrogance and blind ambition. The Chief Priests, the Roman Soldiers, the agony and torture of death– they were no match for God’s love.

Good Friday showed us that God can ALWAYS make even our most difficult circumstances, even the worst situations, into something VICTORIOUS. Jesus still had to suffer and die, because we will still have to face betrayal, hatred, injustice, unanswered questions, and even taste death. An Easter without Good Friday is a happy ending without the story. Only an omnipotent God could have given us the triumph; only a loving God would have walked the Via Dolorosa to fight in the trenches with us.

March 30, 2018 0

Tag: Gospel